


Family is What You Make It

by Shadowstar



Series: A Light in the Dark [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Graduation, M/M, Parentlock, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowstar/pseuds/Shadowstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was it. The big day. It had finally arrived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family is What You Make It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonsterXMadigan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterXMadigan/gifts).



> For my friend, Kait, as a sort of graduation present. Also a part of a story that I am in the process of working on; only 'spoilers' that are remotely possible are that, well, Greg is an Alpha, John is an Omega, they're bonded and they have kids.

This was it. The big day. It had finally arrived.

“Are you ready for this?”

“…Do I honestly have any say in the matter?”

“Ah, right. Good point.”

* * *

It’s been years in the making, really. To think that there had been any possibility of anything else was absurd. No one who knew them within the setting of a family would ever have second guessed the success of the young man they were all here to support. Still, there had been some moments where it had seemed strikingly like none of them would get to see it. Or, at least, a good majority of them.

The whole lot is sitting in the front row of where parents, other family, and friends are allowed. Well, really, they take up the first two rows of the far right section, half-hidden behind black hats that sway back and forth as the group in front of them waits nervously for the ceremony to start.

“Here, now; it’s alright,” Greg gently tells the man beside him, gently putting a large hand on the bouncing knee that has been driving him /nuts/ for the past half hour. He hasn’t done anything about it before now because it had also served as a way to keep their youngest quiet. But it had moved on from that, becoming something far more nervous, slowly increasing in pace, and even jittering a bit against his own.

Now, though, he could at least attempt to control the motion, lest it wake the sleeping child resting against his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” he repeats softly, giving the knee a squeeze.

John’s hand moves to cover Greg’s tangling their fingers together and giving it a nervous squeeze. It wasn’t shaking because of the old injury, however; it was a mixture of anxiety and contained excitement that was making him want to practically run laps around the entire crowd.

“Sorry, love,” he murmurs in return, cheeks warming a bit as he gives the man a sheepish look. Despite their years together, they still sometimes acted as though they were just starting out, shy and new.

It made all three of their kids gag and groan when it happened, followed by demands of ‘get a room’ and ‘ew, stop, I’m going to hurl’. It didn’t deter them, however; rather, it made them snicker and do it even more on purpose.

“You’re fine,” he is chastised gently, Greg’s hand giving John’s another squeeze. Greg brings their clasped hands gently to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss to the other man’s knuckles.

They both hold their breath a moment as the little girl in Greg’s lap shifts, turning her face into her father’s shoulder, making a soft sound of protest before settling in again. Both of them breathe sighs of relief, sharing a gentle, warm look.

“Do you remember when Will was that little?” John asks softly, shifting and reaching over with his free hand to brush a soft strand of light brown hair from his sleeping daughter’s face.

Greg hums softly, shifting the little girl gently to find a better position, holding her close still.

“I do. He was always getting into things, exploring. Thought he would end up crawling into one of Sherlock’s experiments, at one point,” he reminisces with a soft chuckle, leaning his cheek on his little girl’s head, his eyes on the man beside him.

“This is hard on you, isn’t it.” It’s a statement, not a question.

John takes a deep, shaking breath before he slowly nods, swallowing, closing his eyes and thinking for a moment.

“…Yeah. A bit. I’m proud of him. God, am I proud of the man he’s become. But I’m still… I can still remember when he was a baby, so damn _tiny_ and able to fit into the palm of my hand. I thought…” He breaks off, his voice tapering away, his eyes clenching tightly and his grip tightening around Greg’s hand.

Greg’s hand squeezes John’s, hard, in return; he knows exactly what the other man had thought. He had, after all, had the same exact thought. More than once, in fact. Only, his thoughts hadn’t just been on Will. It had been on John, too.

Both of them are pulled from their thoughts by the sound of interference on the microphone on the stage, effectively waking up Amelie. She makes a soft whimpering sound as she presses her face further into Greg’s shoulder, only to turn, bleary eyed and her cheek creased from Greg’s shirt, towards the stage. Everyone’s eyes were on the stage, now.

“Students, parents, family, and friends; welcome,” the headmistress of the school greets them, standing tall on the stage behind the microphone. Everyone claps, cheers going up through the crowd, the young men and women seated all starting to shift excitedly.

“I am proud to present to you all the class of 2032.” She motions towards the group dressed in caps and gowns, seated and cheering, now. The ceremony itself is a blur, cheering parents and students making up for it. When William finally crosses the stage, the entire graduating class cheers, as do his parents and those others who came to celebrate the momentous occasion.

When all of the students have crossed, turning their tassels to the other side, the headmistress returns to the microphone at the front of the stage.

“Now, as a final parting, may I present to you the chosen young man to present the final farewell, William Lestrade-Watson.” There’s a cheer through the crowd, especially from his classmates and his family, as the sandy haired young man gets up onto the stage, shaking the hand of the headmistress as he goes. The young man pauses at the podium to look out over the crowd, face thoughtful. Of course, his eyes then alight on his parents and he visibly relaxes under their eyes and smiles, lifting his chin a bit as he leans in to speak.

“You know, when I was told that I was going to be giving this speech, my first thought wasn’t about what an honor this was, or about what I was going to say. It was, honestly, something along the lines of, ‘Well, shit. Who did I piss off to get /this/ job?’”

Chuckles break through the crowd of his classmates, many of their nervous faces relaxing as they find the humor in it, and with the knowledge that they weren’t the only ones scared shitless.

“But then I started thinking. I started thinking about what all I could say, what motivational things I could tell you all, what stories I could share that would explain why you should listen to me. And the truth is, you probably shouldn’t listen to me. You should be listening to _yourselves_. That old adage of listening to your heart, of following it, has never been truer than it is now. Some of your parents will push you to go to uni, will want you to study certain subjects. But, I hate to break it to you parents, we’re adults now. We’re scared, we’re nervous, but we’re _adults_. We’re adults and we’ll need to make our own mistakes, find our own way in the world, because the sad truth of the matter is that while you may be here, you won’t always be _here_.” He motions to his fellow students, ignoring the frowns he’s getting from some of the parents. The only two that matter are both giving him slightly exasperated, warm smiles, leaning together with his little sister balanced on both their laps.

“I was lucky,” he continues, eyes still on his family. “I didn’t just have two amazing dads, I had  two absolutely _insane_ uncles who are smarter than anyone I know, but who can be dumber than bricks at times. I have a whole set of aunts who taught me early on about girls and how to treat a lady, even. I have grandmothers who love and adore me, I have siblings who look up to me and who I try my best to set an example for. But most of all, I have all of you.” He pauses as he motions to his classmates.

“I may have been born into an odd, unconventional family, but you all? You’re all the family that I chose. We are not all friends, and we don’t all like each other at the best of times, but we are _all_ together. We have been since we were in middle school, and I’m lucky to have known all of you.

“I suppose the point of this speech is, then, to encourage you all to keep doing what you’re doing. To tell you that it does get better, and that love comes in unexpected but amazing places. That family isn’t something that you’re born into and that you have to live with, it can be chosen and shared and just as cherished. My point is telling you all that you aren’t alone, and that just like we’ve been here together, the future is _ours_ and we’ll be headed there, together, too. Congratulations, my family and classmates. We’ve made it this far, and we’re on our way to better, brighter things.”

He steps back as he claps, even as cheers go up through his classmates, all of them standing and hugging their neighbors, laughing excitedly, all grinning and happy.

But as always, his eyes are on his family, and even though he can’t hear them, aren’t really close enough to see the words, he knows that the words that his fathers mouth to him are ones he’s heard all his life.

“We’re proud of you, Will. We love you.”


End file.
